Newspaper article brings Ben & his mother together

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“I read somewhere that they’re allowed to keep them, at least while they’re small,” I said.

“Breast feeding.”

“What?”

“They probably allow them to keep them while they’re breast feeding.”

“What happens after that?”

“How would I know; foster them out or put them into some sort of institution I suppose.”

“Do you think the mother is allowed to have them when they get out of jail?”

“I’ve got no idea, you’ll have to ask the experts.”

I changed the direction of the conversation.

“Do you suppose they’d have done anything about them if he’d been older…you know, the age of consent and all that?”

“Probably not, and anyway he might have been smart enough by then not to blab about it.”

I got a bit annoyed at that and decided to defend my gender; “You keep saying he was the one who talked, but it might have been her.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but it was you who said it was him in the first place. It might have been neither of them that talked, and they got found out some other way, like a grandparent becoming suspicious.”

She rose and took her cup over to the sink and started to wash it. I decided to take a bit of a risk and asked hesitantly, “Mum, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“How would I know what you’re thinking, I’m not a mind reader.”

I grinned, “You used to be. When I was a kid you always seemed to know in advance what mischief I had in mind.”

“That’s a mother’s instinct but it doesn’t seem to work so well now, so what are you thinking?”

“I was just wondering if a lot of mothers and sons have sexual thoughts about each other but never do anything about it.”

She looked at me keenly for a few seconds then said slowly, “I suppose we all have thoughts like that sometimes.”

“Do you mean you have thoughts like that?”

I saw her face grow pink and she seemed to be baffled.

“Well I…I…suppose there’s been…been odd moments when…well what’s wrong with that, they’re only thoughts, and don’t you have them too?”

“You mean about you?”

“Yes, come on, you asked me so now I’m asking you.”

“Yes…yes…I have.”

“Often?”

“Yes…er…quite often.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Oh, I suppose ever since I was about the same age as the Taylor kid.”

“But that means you’ve…that’s years ago, you surely haven’t…not all that time…”

“Well it doesn’t go on twenty four hours a day seven days a week, but…”

“I should hope not seeing how often you go and see that widow and…and that’s another thing. I’ve never pried into your sex life have I?”

“No…no, you haven’t.”

“But what I’ve wondered is why you go to a woman her age; I mean, she’s much older than I am.”

It was my turn to blush, but since we were being so frank and open I told her the truth.

“She knows things.”

“What things?”

“Well…er…the best way to…she teaches…shows me how to do things to her…”

“Oh?”

I pulled myself together and went on, “Why do you think so many young guys are chasing after older women, and why do you think the older women like the younger guys?”

“I suppose…”

“I’ll tell you since you’ve asked. The older women are better at it than the girls, they give more, let you do more with them, and the older women like the young guys because they’re more virile than the older guys. They don’t get…get…fucked once a month like with their husbands. The young guys can do it with them two or even three times in one session.”

“So that’s why you…”

“Yes, that’s why. You asked so I’ve told you.”

Having rallied and gone in to the attack I wilted again and decided to get out of the situation – a situation that wasn’t going anywhere.

Saying “I’ve got some work to do,” I went back to my bedroom, but instead of getting on with work I flopped down on the bed and lying on my back went over our talk in my head.

I realised that we’d never talked in this way before, and certainly never admitted to having sexual thoughts about each other. I suppose I was a bit shocked to learn that mum had experienced those thoughts about me.

In a way she had been my goddess, a woman above such carnal things. I knew that was ridiculous but that was the way I’d felt ever since I was a kid. Now I had some pretty heavy revising to do in my mother thoughts; sort of de-mythologising her.

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